From far away the Major watched as the Dark Sorcerer began to wave his arms and hands about, a black mist forming about him.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he said.

“LOOK!” an archer shouted while pointing at the sun.

The people watched in horror as the moon, not even close to the sun moments ago, started to eclipse it.

“Catapult battery one, FIRE!” the Major shouted. As the sharp creaks and booms of the weapons accompanied the launching of their ammunition over their heads the Major answered his lieutenants questioning gaze. “I have to do something.”

Ten piles of ammunition, a dozen small explosive metallic bombs from each catapult that were set to detonate on impact, scattered in the air and fell towards the enemy that made no move to avoid the incoming fire. Although the attack was devastating to the ground in front of them, the enemy was indeed a good one hundred feet away from the myriad of explosions on the ground and unharmed by the attack.

And the sun was quickly disappearing.

“RELOAD!” he yelled to the batteries behind the wall. He turned to his lieutenant. “Light every lantern, torch and watch tower bonfire throughout the city.”

The sorcerer continued to work his infernal magic as the soldiers on the wall were helpless to do anything about it.

“Should we send out a company of riders?” the lieutenant asked the Major, his order to have the city lit up already being carried out.

“And have them what? Slaughtered by that army?” the Major shouted in frustration.

The eclipse became full and a dark twilight covered the land, as the Major expected, the moon stopped its unnatural path and blinded the son permanently. The enemy became very difficult to see, only the glowing white eyes, thousands of them, the mark of their existence where they now stood.

“Hold fast men! We can still see them,” the Major shouted.

“Why are they not advancing?” his lieutenant asked him quietly.

His answer was a strong gust of wind that hit the Fourth wall with an amazing impact, knocking over many men and even pushing some off of it.

“The Sorcerer doesn’t appear to be done yet.” the Major answered with a punch of his gauntleted fist on the ramparts.

Raging thunderclouds boiled across the sky from the west and within mere turns blackened the sky further, masking the eclipse. From the same direction, pouring rain, tornadoes and lightning streaks began to rage underneath the black canopy and then quickly also started their march directly towards the city.

“So what was the eclipse for?! Damned drama?!” the Major shouted at his lieutenant.

“Apparently.” his lieutenant answered, almost smiling at the Major.

“Yeah, well mate him!” the Major spat on the ground.

As the storm grew fierce around them, he now understood the tactics of his enemy, and his heart sank. In a very short span of time, none of the Karh’Thul could now be seen, and the sorcerer's storm would make their siege weapons a lot less effective.

A flash of light, like a cannon blast, briefly illuminated the center of the Karh’Thul circle, revealing that it still was formed hundreds of yards away. The flash, appeared to be a violent launch of a small blue ray of energy, emanating on the raised hands of the sorcerer.

“They haven’t moved!” announced the lieutenant.

This was little consolation to the captain as the bolt of energy raced through the air at impossible speed and impacted the Northern Gate. The resulting explosion sent a shockwave that shook the surrounding granite wall so much that the soldiers had to hold on just to maintain balance.

“BLAST!” the Major shouted. “Fortify the gate!”

But as the soldiers did so, he saw that the damage to the gate was substantial, the huge timber, cut from the ancient trees of the land gained at the Outer-rim, could not hold against such magic, despite the myriad of metallic bands and structural reinforcements. And to his amazement, the supposedly fire-proof timber, was not.

“Move the central two batteries and get another Regiment down there, heavy shield and pike.” he ordered the lieutenant.

“Here comes another one,” he answered.

The Major couldn’t get the order to move away from the gate out in time. The second explosion hit the gate and blew it inward with such force that the unfortunate soldiers near it were flung backwards up to thirty paces. Screams of pain and shock filled the air.

The Major didn’t let the blast cloud his judgment though and acted quickly.

“All batteries FIRE!” he ordered, knowing that the enemy would now advance.

Drayke Silverwind looked very sad, and he approached a window and looked out of it as he whispered.

My future warriors, back then, our soldiers didn’t have the contingencies for sorcery, for it never had been encountered on such a grand scale. Because of this ignorance, they also relied far too heavily on siege weapons and the protection of the wall, and it was their downfall that day. For while we now heavily train in personal and small-group tactics combat, it hasn’t always been that way, and if you are truly reading this text, consider this sentence as a hidden fifty experience points due to the historic knowledge you are gaining by being patient with the words of the dungeon master. The battle from that point on did not go well because of our capitals the failure to recognize sorcery, for even though our laws distrust it, that doesn’t mean that it can therefore not exist.

He turned back to his students with a meaningful glance and walked back to the podium. He continued to whisper, lest he be overheard by an adjacent classroom.

Interesting note, if this is just a fable, why then did our tactics change back in the tenth century? Look it up children, history was not complete rewritten.

Although the timing to use the siege weapons was perfect, the affect of the ammunition was far less than that. The gusts of wind, zephys and tornadoes, and even the downpour of the rain completely ruined all the calculations made by the targeting officer of each battery. Ammunition flew everywhere outside the city, a lot of it missing its mark. Only some cannon fire and the explosive shells of the catapults did ancillary damage to the massive army charging to the gate.

The sheer numbers of the Karh’Thul broke the brigade at the gate in only a few turns. The demons in their frenzy leapt over and top of one another to scatter along the inner courtyard of the Fourth wall. Meanwhile, the lightning strikes that had reached the city were hitting towers with unerring accuracy, the storm itself seeming to be a sentient and evil ally to the enemy.

To make matters worse, fireballs continued to hit the outer wall and the two gate towers, scattering burned men, stone and fortifications upon the battle below.

Karh’thul by the hundreds died on pike and sword, evaporating into nothing, but just as quickly, more came through the gate to replace those demons that had been lost. Soon the batteries were unable to fire, their men caught up in the melee foray that was throughout the entire yard.

As the major dispatched one Karh’Thul after the other, he watched as his men became overrun by the sheer numbers of claws against them.

“FALL BACK TO THE THIRD WALL!” A command he never thought he would hear, let alone order in his lifetime.

The district that would become the headquarters to our Armed Forces in our time, was taken by the enemy. The citizens too frightened to retreat and who chose instead to hide in their homes, were found by the enemy forces and fed upon. The Karh’Thul had taken part of our very city for the first time in history and ran within it unchallenged. The City Guard was powerless to stop them, as it protected its citizens with its decimated force and retreated behind the Third Wall.

Ustag walked Kithendria through and beyond the gate he obliterated and into the courtyard full of shredded humans. Not one of the soaking corpses was in any way whole and Kithendria cried in complete despair as she was forced to walk around, over and onto the gore of her fallen kin. The rain continued to fall as blood pooled everywhere and ran in streams towards the city’s drains.

“To have given them quarter would have spared them a much needed lesson this day,” Ustag said in resolute calm as walked past the dead. Lightning struck a tower on the third wall and he didn’t flinch or look as screams were heard from that direction. He looked around as one who looked about to find a simple item they had misplaced. His gaze completely void of the humanity of the dreadful scene. Karh’Thul ran by them from time to time as they hunted for more pray.

“Ah, here we are,” he said as he picked up, with one powerful grip, the top half of a child who couldn’t have been older than eight summers.

“See here?” he asked her and she turned away, still sobbing. Which didn’t phase him and he continued. “For every one of these that died, two more likely escaped. And now they are no longer ignorant.”

A couple of girls were sobbing in the room. Drayke took out a clean-looking cloth from his pocket and did something very unusual for a teacher. With tears welling up in his own eyes, he went about the room giving each sobbing girl a sympathetic hug and wiped their tears. He then returned to the podium.

Do not be ashamed my friends, to shed tears with joy or sorrow is what separates us from our enemy.

A gust of wind push Kithendria down to the ground, when she looked up, she saw a man appear on a nearby rooftop. Much to her disbelief, the man somehow jumped down the almost thirty feet and safely land right in front of the sorcerer, swinging his shining longsword with the great momentum strengthened by the fall.

Although Ustag was surprised, his floating staff was not, as it flew to his defense and blocked the blade before him.

Kithendria’s heart leapt as she recognized Captain Darkwell from the Kah’Tharta. Although now he wasn’t in his uniform, but instead dressed within a fine grayish-silver chain-mail suit of armor and wielding what appeared to be a longsword of incredible craftsmanship, its blade reflecting what little light was in the courtyard.

”Well done boy, I haven’t had my guard taken like that in years!” Ustag said in a perverted glee. “My turn!”

With that the sorcerer held up his hand and a massive blast of blue energy sprung from his hand and propelled the Captain across the yard and away from them. The captain spiraled across the bodies, but because he managed to block the blast with his shield, seemed to recover quickly after he landed. He dropped the now ruined shield to the ground.

Kithendria took the moment of Ustag's distraction and scurried away on the ground, and he ignored her.

”Your conquest ends here Sorcerer!” the Captain shouted over the raging storm. As he did so, the closest of the Karh’Thul to witness the battle came at him as quick as the wind threatening to push him over.

“I think not boy, it will take more than your fancy sword and foolish courage this day,” answered Ustag with a condescending laugh.

As two of the black demons reached him, arrows that were impervious to the strong winds shot from a rooftop and instantly killed each one. Each body disintegrated in death before being able to get a claw even near the Captain.

He nodded to the rooftop his thanks and Kithendria followed the Captain's gaze and could only discern a silhouette of a man in black with a billowing black and white cape flowing in the wind behind him. She could not make out enough detail of the man’s face to identify him as he was high atop the adjacent building, but was in awe at the size of the ivory colored longbow he still pointed in the direction of the courtyard.

Just as suddenly, another would-be hero jumped down from behind the sorcerer, this one had the figure of a petite woman wielding two small shortswords. For a moment Kithendria’s hope that it would soon be over shot through her, as the girl had successfully flanked Ustag and thrusted a sword towards his back. But the point never met its mark, for in a horrific second the staff let loose a ray of energy that painfully disintegrated the woman where she stood. She was gone as quick as she had come.

“NO!” the captain shouted and made a charge for Ustag.

As he ran across the courtyard, more fast-moving Karh’Thul demons jumped from the shadows between the nearby structures and charged him. All fell to the same mysterious archer’s arrows from the rooftop above. Ustag met him with another block of his deadly staff.

“Was that a friend?” Ustag asked, his face almost against the captain’s with only their locked weapons between them. Then he hit him with another blast that sent him flying back across the battlefield again. This time the Captain was visibly injured and didn’t recover so quickly. Kithendria took the moment to retreat even further away, staying close to the ground. She turned back to watch just as two more men jumped from the incredible heights of the rooftops and came at him. One was dressed in full plate mail, his helm shielding who he was from Kithendria. The other was an old man she didn’t recognize, with a short white beard and wearing nothing but a peasants outfit. He wasn’t even armed with a weapon!

“Interesting. You realize you are not allowed to use magic in this Kingdom no? And while feather fall is a simple spell, one would think you would obey the ordained commandments of...” Ustag was interrupted by the charging form of the man in plate, even while the older, peasant-looking fellow seemed to do nothing but stand at stare at him.

The armored one attacked Ustag with a quickness that defied the heavy look of his armor, but the Sorcerer matched his speed and ducked the first swing. The second and third Ustag was not so fortunate, as the blade bit into Ustag’s shoulder and then below his waist, the robes covering his legs revealing a swath of blood.

But Ustag’s attention was not on the armored one, it was on the peasant. “Mind-benders, you’re all alike in your arrogance,” he said and then the lone gem on the head of the staff shattered, its minute fragments taken by the wind. With the gem, the peasant’s skull also exploded, his headless body fell into a pool of water amongst the corpses and lay still.

Captain Darkwell had time to recover and charge across the courtyard for a second time, albeit a little more slowly. The man in plate mail tried to strike at him again, but this time the hovering staff quickly blocked and parried his attacks, while Ustag refocused his attention on the Captain.

Just as the Captain reached him, Ustag let another blast loose from his hands into the Captain’s chest. This time he flung across the courtyard towards Kithendria, landing just short of her, losing his sword on impact which skidded across the cobblestones to her.

The man in plate mail didn’t give up, swinging over and over again in a futile effort to get through the defense of the staff.

“Alright, your amusing, but I have had enough,” Ustag told him and released lightning from his hand in such force that the armored man not only burned within his own armor, but was thrown into an ammunition shed which then exploded.

The Captain, his body wrecked with his chest wide open, turned his head around just in time to see Kithendria pick up his sword.

“No!” he shouted at her, but it was too late. The deed was done and it had changed hands.

Kithendria stood up straight, holding the Sword of Truth aloft with two small hands around the long silver-beaded hilt. He watched as the confidence of the sword flushed her frame of the fear, as her eyes suddenly became bright as the sun, glowing with a strength that washed out her pupils.

“What sorcery is this?” Ustag said, his voice faltering for the first time, perhaps with a quiver of fear.

The Captain didn’t turn to face Ustag, he instead used the last of his strength to warn Kithendria, his hold on consciousness escaping him. “Don’t do it Kithendria, the price is too high even for this.”

“It’s that Captain, or become the Queen to a Devil,” she said, a tear escaping her eye.

Ustag, in fear of this unknown, started to incant a spell as Kithendria turned the sword over in her hands, the point facing downward, and thrust it into the ground.

“Take me to save them,” she said, kneeling behind the sword in supplication to it.

Time stopped for a moment, and Kithendria’s soul departed from her body as the sword came to life with energy. As Kithendria’s lifeless body fell to the street beside the sword, the lightning bolt from the sorcerer’s hands hit the sword and dissipated into nothing. A globe of powerful white energy emanated from the sword and expanded forward and outward in every direction, it passed through everything, including the astonished Captain Darkwell without so much as a tingle. As the wave of energy passed through a Karh’Thul between him and Ustag, it partially destroyed it, flaying a layer from the creatures shadowy substance with the strike.

Ustag, tried to turn from it, but it was too quick. He fell in absolute agony as his skin was ripped from his body. The staff exploded, shard of its metal shaft piercing the body of the fallen human. The sword pulsated again and another globe launched, this wave destroyed the Karh’Thul utterly and when it reached Ustag’s writhing body it sundered his muscle structure from him. Almost now motionless, a hollow inhuman shrill scream emanated from him.

The third and final wave took the demon’s life, leaving nothing but a pile of blackened bones.

Every Karh’Thul from the center of the Garrison District, to the Outer-Rim had been destroyed by the sword’s all-reaching globe of energy. The storm, without the cohesive influence of the black sorcery, stopped churning and the clouds began to break apart allowing rays of sunlight to spotlight the landscape. The eclipse, the lightning, the wind and the rain all vanished as quick as a nightmare as the pools of blood washed away with the last of the rain, and an eerie silence fell upon the city.

Captain Darkwell took a last look at humankind’s savior laying lifeless on the ground, and he too passed from this world.

The remnants of the awesome power slowly faded and withdrew into the gem mounted on the guard of the sword which stood guard over the body of Kithendria Millenguarde.

Some of the girls in the room, and surprisingly some of the boys as well were crying. Not Leslie, at eleven years old she was familiar with the tale, but never before had it been so eloquently spun in such an extended version. She wondered who Drayke Silverwind was, and why he was allowed to tell the tale with such a spin that went against all of the known proclamations by the government in regards to the event.

She wrote everything down, including all the questions and his subsequent answers that followed, knowing that someday she would use all of the information to spin a theatrical musical rendition of the tale.